I’m in the midst of trying to figure out a mystery in my house.

I don’t have a surprise leak or electrical malfunction. Heck I don’t even have a ghost which is kind of a shame, because for many years I lived with what I believed to be a ghost in my apartment in Huron, South Dakota.

I have no proof of this, of course, but I experienced enough to convince me. He — or she I suppose —was a pleasant entity except for an annoying habit of turning off my metal music for classical, but that’s a story for perhaps a column closer to Halloween.

Rather, I’m trying to figure out exactly how our newest little feline Nemi can bend and manipulate the very fabric of time.

The little girl apparently can walk through walls, live in the shadows and haunt corners. I know this because I can never find her when I know I should be able to.

It’s not like we live in a palatial estate, yawning across several acres of land in the country.

No, we live in a small, two story house that would become suddenly cramped if we added one more person or a third cat or a first dog. Yet somehow, she manages to evade if wanted, which I realize is the ability of all cats, but I maintain she is possessed of a quantum ability that lets her step between planes of existence.

A couple weeks ago I spent the better part of a half hour simply searching for her only to find her, after I left the room I had just searched up and down, standing in the doorway, looking innocent.

It should be noted she is not innocent, but she pulled off a pretty good imitation of such.

And then the other day, after jumping into a pursuit of a high speed chase between Buster and Nemi upstairs, I witnessed her most daring escape into a parallel dimension ever.

The chase began slowly and directly in front of me. Nemi walked past Buster and Buster got the familiar look of, “She’s doing some illegal and I shall chase her.”

Nemi recognized this as well and took off like a shot with Buster close on her heals, swatting at her butt.

I fell in quickly, hoping to stave off the fit of snarling and yowling I knew was to come except once I reached the top of the stairs and after just seeing her tail disappear around the corner, I realized I had lost her.

In such a quick turn I should have been able to find her and yet she was gone, vanished into the great unknown like a blink. I went about searching around, calling her name expecting to find smoke where she side-stepped reality.

After about 10 minutes of looking into every corner, she finally appeared, almost as if she was coming up the stairs for the first time.

What this proves to me is that cats are the very essence of the supernatural, able to fill the voids of the unknown with their mysterious ways.

It also tells me that we are just one step from falling under the rule of our already cat masters forced to while away the days with lots of napping and scratching of furry bellies.

Huh, that actually doesn’t sound so bad.